


Hold Onto Me

by Dannye Chase (HolyCatsAndRabbits), HolyCatsAndRabbits, Yuukivic



Series: Dannye's Zine Fics [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley Through The Ages (Good Omens), Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Other, Post-Scene: St James's Park 1862 (Good Omens), The bookshop, Top Crowley (Good Omens), the fight over holy water
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:47:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27492166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolyCatsAndRabbits/pseuds/Dannye%20Chase, https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolyCatsAndRabbits/pseuds/HolyCatsAndRabbits, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuukivic/pseuds/Yuukivic
Summary: This is a piece written for the Bottom Aziraphale version of the "Bottoms Up" Zine. Fic by Dannye (HolyCatsAndRabbits) and art by Yuukivic.The fic takes place right after the fight over holy water in 1862.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Dannye's Zine Fics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2067741
Comments: 22
Kudos: 174
Collections: TheBottomsUpZineArtandWritingCollection, Top Crowley Library





	Hold Onto Me

**Author's Note:**

> I had so much fun working with Yuukivic for this zine. I love the bookshop art they made!  
> Thank you also to all the BUZ mods for all their hard work on the zine!

**1862**

**London**

The bookshop door slammed open and Aziraphale stalked inside, ushering Crowley ahead of him before the demon could run off for the next century or whatever else he was planning. Crowley stood there, glowering among the shelves, and Aziraphale was suddenly struck by the realization that for the very first time in his life, Crowley seemed dangerous. 

But only to himself.

Aziraphale took off his white top hat and threw it onto a stack of books. “You cannot— you cannot just ask me for a suicide pill, Crowley! _Holy water!”_

Crowley growled at him, arms crossed. “I told you that’s not what I want it for!”

Aziraphale yanked off his gloves and threw them as well. They landed on the sofa, right in the well-worn spot where Crowley usually sat, and Aziraphale’s heart lurched. Fury rose up in him. “Do you know what would happen to me if something happened to you?” he demanded. “Do you have _any_ idea what I would go through if you—”

The bookshop was suddenly quiet, in the way it could be only when everyone inside of it had stopped breathing.

Aziraphale put a hand to his forehead. “I’m sorry, my dear. I know we don’t talk about— _that.”_

After a moment’s silence, he looked up to find that Crowley had removed his hat and dark glasses and was holding them loosely in his hand. His mouth moved a couple of times before words came out. “Well, maybe— maybe we should, then. Just once.”

There was a beat. A second one. And then it was a mutual thing, a single movement, the energy required to take that step toward each other far, far less than it took to keep standing still. Their mouths fit perfectly together, Aziraphale thought, especially given how frantic a first kiss it was, how desperate, how messy and wild.

Before Aziraphale knew it, Crowley had him backed against a bookshelf and his beautiful, clever hands were everywhere on Aziraphale’s body, traveling a territory that had until this moment been behind a barrier they’d built so carefully. He fumbled against the fastenings of Aziraphale’s trousers, and when his fingers dipped inside Aziraphale cried out with the feeling of it, of Crowley stroking him, his cock already slick with precome.

“Yes,” Aziraphale panted. “Oh, yes, just like that. Oh, my darling.” He reached up to wrap his arms around Crowley’s neck and pull him into another kiss. “I need you. Need to feel you.”

He tore at Crowley’s clothes, stripping him of the coat and shirt that were in the way between Aziraphale and the astonishing creature in front of him. He pressed his mouth against Crowley’s chest, tasting the smooth flesh of him.

 _“Angel,”_ Crowley groaned. 

“You’re so gorgeous,” Aziraphale breathed. “Oh, my dear.” His fingers pulled at the demon’s trousers until he could slip his hand into them just as Crowley had, and Aziraphale moaned when he made contact with the hard, hot flesh there, at the overwhelming pleasure of learning the shape of Crowley’s cock by feel alone.

Crowley seized Aziraphale’s wrist to still him. “Angel,” he whispered. “Angel, let me—”

“Yes, please,” Aziraphale begged, and Crowley caught him around the waist, lifting him right off his feet. In the next moment, Aziraphale was falling backwards onto his bed in the flat upstairs, his clothing vanished, nothing on his skin now but cold air and the heat of Crowley’s touch. 

Crowley leaned over Aziraphale, bracing himself on one arm while he kissed Aziraphale the way he had always wanted to be kissed. The broad answer to that question was _by Crowley,_ as in, any possible kissing by Crowley would have satisfied the desire. But this was a step better, because it was a slow, deep, possessive kissing, where Crowley’s tongue licked into Aziraphale’s mouth and was welcomed eagerly, where Aziraphale could put his hands on Crowley’s face and turn his mouth so that it fit him best.

Aziraphale was only slightly aware of Crowley maneuvering his legs up, but he wasn’t completely startled to feel slick fingers at his entrance, circling slowly and then pushing in, one by one. Aziraphale pleaded for it, begged for him, and soon enough, Crowley was there leaning over him, no clothes separating them now, nothing in the way of his touch. 

It had never been like this between them. A brushing of fingers, maybe. Once— once Crowley’s lips pressed to Aziraphale’s hand, on a night with no moon. And one shattering moment in the midst of a war when Aziraphale had taken a bullet that had been meant for another soldier, and instead of the slow, cold fading of discorporation there had been heat around him, and muttered words: _Angel, what have they done to you? Hold onto me, I have you._

And now there was this, _finally_ this, with Crowley above him and inside of him, and Aziraphale as open to him as he could be. Aziraphale’s legs crossed over Crowley’s waist, and the bed rocked with each thrust of Crowley’s cock, each snap of his hips. 

“Harder,” Aziraphale begged. “Oh, darling. More, please.”

Crowley growled as he complied, taking Aziraphale faster, until the bed frame started to bang against the wall with every thrust. Aziraphale’s cock was trapped between their bodies, slick with precome and sweat. The delicious friction increased until it overwhelmed him and Aziraphale wailed as he painted their stomachs in his release. 

Crowley gasped and Aziraphale wrapped his arms around his neck. _“Hold onto me,”_ he whispered. _“I have you.”_

Crowley shuddered as he came, his hips working in stuttering jerks as he filled Aziraphale’s body with rushes of hot fluid. Crowley’s movements stilled then and he let himself rest lightly on top of Aziraphale, a beautiful, grounding weight. There was no sound now except harsh breathing.

“Well,” said Crowley finally. “This is probably—”

Aziraphale nodded. “—why we don’t talk about it.”

* * *

**Art by Yuukivic**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are so appreciated!  
> Find Yuukivic on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Yuukivic), [Tumblr](https://yuukivic.tumblr.com/), and [Insta](https://www.instagram.com/yuukivic/)
> 
> Find Dannye at [DannyeChase.com](http://dannyechase.com/)  
> and on her [Linktree](https://linktr.ee/DannyeChase)  
> 


End file.
